


see that my grave is kept clean

by donutworry



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, F/M, Make Sure You Check Those Out!, Not Beta Read, Period-Typical Racism, Racist Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-03-20 15:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13720530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutworry/pseuds/donutworry
Summary: Prohibition. Jazz. Money. These are things Malachai "Mally" Parker focuses on now that he's home from the war. These things keep him sane and safe, like smoking his cigarettes and taking care of rival gang members. Kai doesn't count on Bonnie Bennett, a lass he can't help but fixate on, to come through and reorient all that. 3 parts





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Dedicated to my homegirl and sometimes beta reader, shadowcatgirl09. She didn’t beta this one because it’s a gift to her, but she’s helped me out with my chaptered fics FAMGI and night light, as well as some oneshots since editing and rewrites take me longest. Yay! This fic was inspired by a text post convo on Tumblr we had a while ago that just spiralled way out of control.
> 
> Title from a song of the same name by Blind Lemon Jefferson, released in 1928. Genre is Texas blues, so it’s got a kinda country vibe if you listen. Fic is AH 1920s AU. Kai’s nickname is “Mally” to some people here, because it wasn’t really common to shorten a name using a syllable that wasn’t the first. So Malachai became Mally like how Thomas becomes Tommy (to most people). Story takes place in 1923/24-1928 Mystic Falls. Kai was born in 1898 and Bonnie was born in 1902, they’re 25 and 21 respectively when they meet. I did my best with temporal/locational lingo/accents (heavier with some characters than others) and trying to stay historically accurate in order to recreate that atmosphere, but I probably didn’t catch it all, I’m no historian. Major discrepancies are likely intentional though, so history friends, pls don’t skewer me.
> 
> READ! TWs: This fic will deal heavy with racism. Although I try to be as tasteful as possible, there’s micro- and macro-aggressions abound and eventually some explicitly painful racist scenes. There is also sexism (even Kai is period typically sexist), homophobia, violence, PTSD/“shell shock”, sex, and copious bouts of drinking and smoking. Like for real, Kai smokes like a chimney. Good things happen, but this is also kind of a(nother) dark fic, so be warned. If any of these bother you, don’t read, it’s cool. This fandom has a lot of great authors for you to enjoy.

 

**~1/4~**

“Now look here, Mally,” Joshua Parker snaps his fingers before his eldest son’s face. “It’s important we get our supplies out to Rudy’s saloon ‘fore the new year, so I want you and your brother to run them out. Take that Italian boy you’re always with with you, the black-haired one.”

“And Joe?” Mally questions. The elder Parker scoffs.

“Let me worry about that fool. Get on, then!” Malachai has to hold back his own eye roll at his father’s snappish command and instead grabs his cap, bellowing out his youngest brother’s name as he makes his way out the house and to the car. He wasn’t looking forward to spending the day with his space-head brother or his hot-headed friend, but alas business came first. Business first. Always.

Lucas is already out by the Buick, which Mally probably should have expected considering his younger brother’s fascination with gas station attendant who ran out to help. The young man cranks the Buick and fills it with fuel. Mally watches Luke discreetly watch the attendant, but says nothing about it. It’s none of his business. He only hopes Lucas isn’t so damn obvious in front of those who would make it theirs. Mally closes his eyes and stretches slightly before he speaks.

“Pa wants us to do a run,” he informs his younger, fairer brother. Luke turns his attention to him.

“To who?”

“Rudy’s.”

Luke looks fairly surprised and a lot appalled. “In the negro part of town?” he questions. “We might get lynched.”

Mally pulls out his cigarette case and takes out a stick. Lighting it, he regards his brother. It makes sense for Luke to be wary, but if there was one thing the prohibition laws secured, it was unity in the need to get stupid drunk. Liquor knew no racial boundaries. Exhaling, Mally shakes his head.

“Don’t be like that,” he chastises into the cloud of smoke. “We’re just gonna drop off the goods at the saloon, take the payment, and leave. Black folks need stiff drinks too. Probably more than us. They worry about lynchings more’n we do.”

Popping his cigarette back in his mouth, he climbs into the driver's seat and waits for the attendant to give them the go ahead. The man shares one more indulgent smile with Luke, before Mally drives off to the Salvatore’s warehouse to pick up Damon and the moonshine.

* * *

Rudy’s is quietly packed when they come by to make their delivery, the saloon’s patronage unsurprisingly integrated. Like Mally knew it would be. Booze, the great uniter.

Taking off his cap and sliding it into his suit inside pocket, Mally looks around the great room for Rudy. He has a feeling the imposing man would like likely be in the back, but it’s never a bad idea to be aware of one’s surroundings.

There’s a swing jazz band playing and they’re good, upbeat and energetic. The chatter and din of the saloon is comfortable, and Mally feels himself settling into the sinfulness like a warm bath. Damon slings an arm around him, looking just as at ease as Mally. Lucas looks like a fish out of water and Mally chuckles at his little brother’s wide-eyed fascination. The downsides of sheltering the long-time baby in a family of rabble-rousers - he stands out like a sore thumb at work.

“We should stick around after the meet up,” Damon murmurs, eying a beautiful brunette with long legs and doe-like eyes. She was clearly a prostitute, but she was also young and beautiful and looked like she was made of dreams. Damon’s dreams at least. She was pretty, but not really Mally’s type. Whatever his type was.

Mally shrugs. “S’not a good idea,” he replies. The music dies down a little, transitioning smoothly into something more down-tempo and to Mally’s preference. “I could perhaps be persuaded, though.”

Damon grins at him, ruffling the back of his hair. “That’s my boy!” he exclaims while Mally scowls and tries to fix the cowlick Damon’s rough-housing no doubt gave him. Damn ruffian. Mally’s eyes scan the saloon once more for Rudy, finally catching sight of him as he steps out from a supply room to stand behind the bar. Mally raises a hand to catch his attention.

Nudging Damon and Luke forward at Rudy’s nod, Mally walks forward to shake the owner’s hand.

“Mr. Hopkins,” he greets. “Good to see you again, sir.” Lucas looks surprised at Mally’s formality (And God damn, the kid really has no poker face. Mally vows to rectify that because he’d be a limp corpse before someone got the goat on a Parker boy), but Damon is unruffled as per usual. Besides, Lucas was too young to get it - unlike the other three men, he didn’t get drafted. War and facing down death together is the ultimate bonding experience.

Rudy takes his offered hand with a smile, his white teeth glowing against his dark skin. “Hey, Mally, good to see ya, son. How’s yer pa?”

“Good, sir,” Mally replies. “Still...himself.” Rudy chuckles at that, loud and full-bodied. Even Luke gives a little smirk.

“Nice t’ hear,” Rudy replies. He side-eyes Damon, who leans back against the smirk.

“Hey-oh, Le Capitaine,” he drawls. Rudy rolls his eyes. “I got something for you,” Damon croons. “It’s out back with my brother.”

Rudy nods and draws them into an empty smoke room, closing the door. The sound of the music becomes muffled as the four of them settle down. Mally lights himself another cigarette, reluctantly passing the case to Luke when his brother motions for it. He watches as Damon pulls two silver flasks from the inside of his coat.

“A sample,” he declares, passing one to Rudy and studying the burly man’s reaction as he takes a swig. Rudy whistles.

“It’s good,” he declares. “Strong.”

Damon grins. “Salvatore family recipe. The best white lightning this side of the Mississippi.” Rudy takes another sip and passes it over to Mally, who take his own deep swill. Shit. He expects a full on beard in the morning. Luke declines to have any, giving the flask back to Damon who drowns the dregs.

“Try the gin,” Damon tells Rudy with smug grin.

Like the whiskey, the gin makes it round the table, Luke once more declining. It’s sweeter, more mellow, something a woman would like. Mally thinks he might nip a bottle for Josie.

Rudy crosses his arms and leans back. “And how much is this hooch gonna cost me?” he asks. Damon leans back as well, mirroring Rudy’s position. His usually mischievous face goes serious.

“Thirty-five a gallon,” he offers. Bold, Mally thinks as Rudy snorts.

“Boy, you tryna take me for a fool. I oughta throw you o’er my knee,” he gripes as Damon fights to hold back a smile. “Eighteen,” he counters. It’s Damon’s turn to scoff.

“Who taking who for a fool now?” the Italian man says. “Our juice is worth thirty at the very least.”

Rudy chuckles. “Well, I ain’t pay thirty a gallon for hooch unless it comes with the second coming of Jesus Christ himself. Twenty.”

“Twenty-five.”

“Twenty-three.”

Damon considers it. “How many barrels you thinking?”

“With the new year comin’? And a crowd two, maybe three times bigger than tonight? Shit, about eleven whisky barrels at the least, and eight or nine o’ gin, even watered down. People gonna want to celebrate.”

Damon nods, deliberating. In his quiet, Mally can hear a woman’s sultry voice crooning about longing for an unknown love. Her voice is accompanied by a piano and he closes his eyes, leaning back to soak it in, sucking the last bit of tobacco from his cigarette before putting it out. Stingy as he might be, Rudy had undeniably good taste in music and talent.

“And I take it this will be your standing price if all goes well?” Damon asks in the background. Mally cracks his eyes open slightly, discreetly watching the proceedings and taking in his brother’s studious reactions. He taps his cigarette case Luke left on the table, mentally counting how many rolled sticks he has left. He decides to wait to light another.

“I may negotiate for a lower cost in return for a larger haul if it sells well.”

Damon sighs. “It will. But understandable. Twenty-three’s good for now. We got eight crates with us, five whisky, three gin. We can bring you twelve more tomorrow night. You pay for the eight tonight and the rest then.”

“Deal.” The two shake hands, then turn to the Parkers. “And you two?” Rudy addresses them.

Luke looks caught off-guard, glancing to Mally for guidance, who sits up with a sigh. No damn poker face at all. He waves for his brother to continue.

“Um,” Luke starts. Mally tries very hard not to roll his eyes. “The usual fee. Ten percent for protection from you,” Luke tells Rudy and looks towards his brother once more for confirmation, looking obviously relieved when Mally nodded. More confident, he turns to Damon. “The deal between us stands. Y’all use our land to make and store your stock and we get fifteen percent in all your sales for rent and transportation.”

Both men grumble, but there was no denying the Parker boys reputation around these parts. If they wanted to keep away cops and competitors alike, having the local gang act as guard dogs was the best play to make. The Gemini gang kept other bootleggers from selling their own stuff and the Salvatore’s got hooch monopoly in the city and surrounding areas. The local speakeasies paid the fee to the Gemini and they didn’t have to worry about the police banging down their doors. Simple, easy, and beneficial to everyone.

Meeting adjourned, the four head go through a hidden door to the supply room, then outside to where Stefan and Joe were waiting in the ally by the speakeasy’s backdoor.

“‘Bout damn time,” Joe gripes glaring at his brothers as they step out. Luke raises his arms in mock defense.

“You know how business goes,” he jokes, as if he hadn’t very nearly pissed himself in anxiety just two minutes ago. Mally doesn’t bother holding back his eye-roll this time, lighting up another cigarette as he goes to help Stefan unload the Buick. The younger Salvatore gives him a shy smile while his own older brother takes payment from Rudy. Mally decides to pretend his own younger siblings don’t exist while they bicker quietly in the background, acting as lookouts. Morons.

Carrying the crates into the bar supply room is quick work. When they finish, Mally takes the time to light his last cigarette before one of his brothers tries to swipe it or bum it while Stefan heads back outside to let the others know they were done. Waving out the match, he leans against the wall to take in the singer’s voice and wait for the others to come in.

She’s singing a dance number now, sounding just as great as before when she was crooning her heartache. Mally indulges himself; the woman must be a siren, because her voice had him absolutely beguiled. Rudy comes in, followed by the Salvatores and idiots one and two.

“Who’s yer singer?” Mally asks. “She’s good. Might stick around to listen.”

Rudy beams in the kind of pride that tells Mally he knows the woman personally. “That’s my daughter, Bonnie.”

“You got yourself a daughter, Le Capitaine?” Damon teases. “Good thing she can sing, because if she looks anything like you...well then, poor thing.”

Chest puffing out, Rudy looks indignant. “I’ll box yer ears into yer fool head, damn cracker brat,” he snaps. The rest watch in varying degrees of amusement and alarm. “Don’t disrespect my girl.”

Damon nods, mildly chagrined. “Sorry, you’re right. My bad.” Rudy deflates slightly, still looking annoyed and the six of them filter back into the smoking room.

“Git on out there,” Rudy waves them off.

Damon hands Mally the Gemini cut before he disappears to do whatever it is Damon does when he’s up to no good, while Stefan looks at his vanishing form with resignation. Joe and Luke take playful jabs at each other as they take a table near the front entrance where they can watch people come in and out. Good. At least they remembered how to look out for themselves.

Stepping out of the smoking room back into the general area, Mally takes a quick glance at the stage on his way to take a seat at the bar.

Then he takes another, longer look. In her shimmery, soft pink dress and cream fur shawl, Rudy’s daughter Bonnie was a sight to behold as she chanted a rousing cheer in tune with the blaring clarinet. She did a little dance as she sang, her short dress - and damn, she was into the flapper trend so many birds liked, so it was _short_ \- twirling about her playfully. The material contrasted nicely to her skin and Mally has a sudden, invasive thought of what her bare skin would be like contrasted to his.

How can Rudy stand to have her up there looking like that?

Mally looks around. He’s not the only man enraptured by Bonnie’s looks; those seated and those up with dance partners all took chance looks at the woman singing when they could. Mally recognized that hunger because he could relate. He _was_ that hunger.

Looking back up at the stage, there’s a moment when Bonnie’s eyes meet his and she smiles at him as she sings, before her gaze moves on. And damn, God _damn_ if those few seconds didn’t rob him of all his fucking senses, when her earthy green gaze took hold of his stormy blue.

And now he knows. His type is a woman named Bonnie Hopkins. The sudden ache at knowing she could never be his hits him like the shell he took in France and his jaw clenches.

Fuck.

* * *

“What’s _your_ problem, _Kai_?” Josie asks him, fed up with his attitude. Mally frowns at her from his prone position on her office couch. She’d interrupted prime wall-kicking time.

“I don’t have one,” he snaps. “And don’t call me that, it sounds stupid.” He’s lying, of course. Not about the nickname, because that is stupid, but about his mood.

He’s been crabby ever since the night of the first shipment at Rudy’s Saloon. Hell, his mood is absolutely abysmal, rare form for him since he’s usually pretty playful and calm, getting over his darker emotions quickly. For him to be so negative for so long was pretty out of the norm, and it made the majority of his many siblings and work colleagues avoidant, unsure of how to deal with the casually violent man when he was like this.

The majority. And of course Josie, his ever-observant twin, would be the first to call him out on his behavior.

“You’re such a liar,” she snaps. “Why are you moping?” She turns back to look over the finance reports their father was making her check the math on.

“I’m not,” he says morosely, recalling Bonnie’s pretty smile.

Josie sighs and really sets down the reports, turning the full power of her blue gaze on him.

“You can tell me,” she assures. Then she mimes locking her lips and throwing away the key. “Special Secrecy Swear.”

Mally’s lips quirk reluctantly. “Fine,” he groans, sitting up from the couch with a huff. “Since yer keepin’ yer mouth shut - it’s a girl.”

Josie’s face goes through several rapid expressions. She gets up quickly and joins him on the couch.

“Could it be?” she teases. “Malachai Parker, lovesick? Smitten? Oh, this is the cat’s pajamas!” She slaps his leg a few times and Mally has to grab her hands to make her stop. “Well? Tell me about her!”

Her excitement throws him and he thinks that maybe he regrets this. But he’s already revealed too much and if he doesn’t divulge more to his sister, she’s gonna hound him like an angry bee until he gives in. Mally sighs dramatically.

“She’s Rudy’s daughter,” he mutters. Josie frowns at him.

“Rudy...Hopkins? Our customer Rudy Hopkins?” He can see her excitement turning to anger and he stops her assumptions in their tracks. No doubt if she thought he was doing anything to interfere with their business, she’d rat him out to Daddy, Special Secrecy Swear or not. Business first, always.

“It’s not like that, sweetheart” he says. “I haven’t even talked to her.”

Josie deflates. “I’m confused then, why -?”

“You know why. Even if she wasn’t Hopkins’ brat, you think you’d still be excited for me if I told you I was wheelin’ for a black girl?”

“Yes,” she says simply, making her brother pause. “You’ve always been you, Mally, done what you liked without giving a damn what anyone else had to say about it. And when have any of us ever been like those those racist fucks?” The curse coming from her mouth makes him grin. “Like stupid John Gilbert? But Rudy’s daughter? He’s a good customer of ours Mally, you need to stay away from her.”

Mally is quiet and Josie must see the sense warring with the devil in him. She switches tactics, pleading now instead of outright telling him what to do.

“If it was any girl else, Mally, I’d help you. But these times? And with Daddy always being about business first? It can only end badly for everyone involved Mally. Please let this go. Please leave her alone.”

The younger twin clenches his jaw, but considers her plea seriously. He nods.

“I won’t go after her,” Mally acquiesces. Josie smiles and squeezes his hand heading back to her desk. Mally lies down again, throwing an arm over his eyes.

He won’t go after Bonnie. It was for the best.

* * *

About two weeks later, Joshua wants Mally and Joe to run down to the Mill with him and Mally bites his tongue to avoid starting a fight. It’s too early in the damn morning to come to blows with his father. At least not when he was driving a car.

Mally, to put it very fucking bluntly, cannot stand going to the Mill. It’s Jonathan Gilbert’s business, a small grocery store that supplied nearly all of Mystic Falls’ residents with their needs. And Mally means _all_ kinds of needs if you were the right kind of customer asking the right kind of questions.

He moves the cigarette in his mouth with his tongue, hands tight around the steering wheel. “And why are we going to the Mill today, Dad?”

Joshua glances aside to him, looking for the inkling of fight in his son. His son’s temper has always been unpredictable, and flares up like a firecracker when it comes to a head, quick and explosive and dangerous when aimed at someone. But since the war, Mally’s gotten a better hold of it, something that both puts Joshua ill-at-ease and makes him proud. Mally’s driven and ambitious, with a head for business and balls so big he’d put a bull to shame. He’d also never shown a real desire to take over the family’s little enterprise, so Joshua couldn’t decide for sure whether to hedge his bets with him or Luke, who was just as smart if a little less charismatic and more green.

Seeing that Mally wasn’t about to start passing out punches, he answers. “Jonathan Gilbert has been asked to provide entertainment for the Councilmen's meeting after the Founder’s Ball. They’re asking for new provisions.”

“New provisions?” Mally echoes in a cloud of smoke. “And I suppose Gilbert is crawlin’ to us to smuggle in these... _provisions_.” He says the last word with a sneer, dropping his usual lazy drawl to pronounce the word fully. Joe shuffles uneasily in the back, sensing the storm behind his older brother’s tone.

“You’re smart, son,” Joshua smiles disarmingly. “Yes, he needs our skills to get them here, not only into town, but to the meeting.”

“So we’re pimps now?” Mally asks bluntly. “Since when are we in the prostitution business?”

“We’re in any business that gets our family on that council,” Joshua snaps. He should’ve known - Mally was being almost nice. The younger Parker huffs and spits his cigarette butt out.

“Those fuckin’ snobs are never gonna grant you a spot,” Mally drawls. “But yah, keep dreamin’, Pa, it’s adorable.”

Joshua almost smacks his disrespectful son, but decides instead to try to bargain with him. “I know you find prostitution distasteful-”

“No, I find smugglin’ people _distasteful,_ ” Mally interrupts. Joshua continues as if he hadn’t spoken.

“But, it’s only this once, the whores are a front to get us into the meeting. I have some valuable information to share with Mayor Lockwood that I think he’d like to hear - in exchange for getting me what I want. That’s the real reason I’ve decided to take this on.”

Mally still looks apoplectic, squeezing the steering wheel like he’s imagining it’s something else. Probably Joshua’s neck if the greying Parker had to take a guess.

“C’mon, Mally, it’s only once,” Joe suddenly speaks up. “We don’t ever gotta run women ever again.”

“Shut up, Joe,” Mally snaps, lighting up another cigarette as he waits for another car to pass while he’s at a crossroads. Joe throws his hands up in exasperation, sitting back and obviously deciding to keep to himself for the rest of the ride.

“Mally, the women want the opportunity to make more money than they usually do. All we’re doing is giving them a safe ride.”

“There are other ways t’ get what ya want, Dad,” Mally says softly. “I still think yer being fuckin’ ridiculous, wanting a spot on the _Founder’s Council_ , but we coulda figured somethin’ else out. Instead of smugglin’ in some whores who probably barely speak English so a few snobs can get their jollies off behind their wives’ backs.”

Joshua grimaces at his son’s blunt vulgarity and Joe coughs in mild shock. Never holding back blows, his son.

“It’s not the ‘Founder’s Council’ it’s a town council of elected officials.” Mally scoffs at that proclamation. “Look son, I know your ambitions are bigger than this town, that you want to go legitimate and spread out,” he tries to soothe. “But you know the work is never clean. Getting your foot in the door is the first step.”

“Unless the door’s a fuckin’ bear trap,” Mally mutters. His smoke fills the car as he grabs the burning stick out of his mouth and passes it to his younger brother who takes it, recognizing it as the peace offering it is: Mally never shares his cigarettes.

The older son lights up another for himself.

“And I fuckin’ hate Jonathan Gilbert. I’m gonna end up killin’ him myself one day.”

“Well, it won’t be today,” Joshua says sternly, sitting back in the passenger’s seat and looking out. “And it won’t be before, during or immediately after the Founder’s Ball either.”

Mally’s lips purse.

“We’re going to run the whores. I’m going to talk to Lockwood. They’re going to rig the next election in my favor and I’m getting on the Council. Then we’re working up. Then you can kill him, just make it look like an accident.”

Both of his sons shoot him a surprised look. Joshua shrugs.

“He’s a fucking asshole,” he says as Mally parks in front of the Mill. “Now let’s go talk to him about business.”

* * *

Mally stood outside the room while his dad and brother sat with John Gilbert to work out the details around the Great Whore Hustle of 1923. The idea of being in the same room as John Gilbert made his skin feel like it was covered in a rash, so he just listened to the conversation by the doorway, using the excuse of wanting to smoke freely as an excuse. It worked - the weasel-faced man couldn’t stand cigarettes, which made Mally distrustful. What kind of man didn’t smoke?

He chimed in every now and then with his opinion and every time his voice rings out, Gilbert looks at him with a mix of dislike and nervousness. No love lost there. By the time the conversation ends, he’s only got four sticks left from the fifteen he rolled that morning. Stupid Jonathan.

“You coulda been nicer, Mally. Gilbert knows you don’t like him,” Joe whines when they leave. Mally gives him a dirty look as he climbs in the backseat, the one that tells him to keep talking and he’ll get tossed out and left. Joe crosses his arms, pouting.

“Jus’ sayin’. Pa’s old - if he dies it’s on you to run the business. Wouldn’t hurt ya to be nicer.”

“Hey!” Joshua protests, but Joe’s inadvertent insult makes Mally grin.

“Calm down, ol’ man,” he tells his father. “You’ll give yerself a stroke.”

“I hate my children.”

“Then why’d ya have so many?” Joe queries loudly. Joshua, scowls at both of his boys. Mally glances at him briefly as he drives, then points at his head.

“Is that - Pa, I think I just watched one of yer hairs turn grey!”

He bursts out laughing with Joe as their father’s face reddens, even when he gets cuffed upside the head. It didn’t hurt, he was too full of mirth to feel the sting.

“Pack of ingrates,” Joshua mutters as he settles back in his seat.

From the corner of his eye, Mally sees the way his father sweeps a hand through his still dark hair, despite the man being in his mid-fifties. He shares a look with his brother, who snorts but neither say anything for fear of actually incurring their father’s wrath. It was still too early in the morning to get into a fistfight with his father.

Instead, they stop by the warehouse where the Salvatore’s keep their wares to check inventory. Damon, as usual, is happy to see them.

“Mally, Mally, finally some good company! I was tired of looking at these ugly _sfigatos_ ,” the raven-haired man proclaims.

Stefan, who had come up to greet the Parkers, and Mally both snort at Damon’s dramatics. One of their cousins speaks up to say something in Italian that Mally doesn’t know, but still understood perfectly. Stefan sighs at his family’s antics when Damon shouts back something in Italian that is no doubt just as derogatory.

“Good morning, Mr. Parker. Hi, Mally, Joe. How are you all this morning? Can I get you anything?” the youngest Salvatore asks.

Joshua beams at him. “No thank you son. You gonna tell me how you’re the only one out of your no-good family with manners?”

“I resent that, Papa Parker” Damon says. “Those, cunts, I can see how ya would trash, but me? How do ya know I wasn’t going to offer any refreshments?”

“Were you?” Mally asks, curious.

“Hell no, ya think I’m runnin’ a hotel? You know where the hose is.” Damon throws his arm over the taller Parkers shoulder.

Mally just scoffs and pushes him off.

“We came to run numbers.”

“Yeah, yeah. Business first. We know how you Gems operate. C’mon, Stef.”

The Salvatores lead them to the warehouse’s office, a small glassed off room on the upper level that looked down on the different areas of the warehouse. Damon hands Joshua some papers.

“So those are the production numbers - crops we were able to harvest, crops we had to toss, rye that your boys brought in for the whiskey. As you can see,” he waves down at the barrels in various states of production. “You can see the interim product. We have about 7 barrels of whiskey ready to pour. Gin is more popular up north, but the ladies ‘round these parts do love themselves some gin and tonic, so we have three full barrels of those ready to pour as well.

“Rudy Hopkin’s one of our best customers,” Damon pauses. “You ever hear his girl sing Papa Parker?”

Mally looks up at him sharply, then shifts his gaze to Pa, who shakes his head.

“Ah, you gotta stop in at some point. Girl has pipes, Mally’s in love,” Damon winks at younger Parker. “You know how he likes music.”

Mally glares at Damon, while Joshua just looks between them dubiously.

“I do,” he says, dragging out the second syllable dubiously. “Rudy’s girl, is she pretty?”

Damon grins wide and waggles his eyebrows. Mally rolls his eyes.

“She’s alright.”

“Uh-huh,” the collective group says. Even Stefan. Mally feels betrayed.

“Don’t do nothing stupid,” Joshua warns.

“I won’t!” Mally protests. He catches himself. “I don’t even know what the hell you mean.”

“Uh-huh,” gets chorused at him again. Mally just shoots his dirtiest look at Damon. Fucking Italians.

They finish discussing the numbers and which speakeasies to run them out to. Rudy’s Saloon easily has the most shipments, being the most popular and after Joshua checks his copies of the reports against the originals, the Parkers roll out with the promise of returning that night. Next stop, the justice building so Joshua can check the police bribes and make sure the commissioner is still willing to look the other way as they make their runs.

Mally’s met with the commissioner _and_ the sheriff at least a dozen times each, both as a trouble-making lad and as a young businessman. Neither man likes him much, and the dour mood Damon put him in makes him unfit for their type of company. He opts to wait by the car, while his family makes this stop.

Joshua stares at him, eyebrow raised when he suggests this.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are ya starin’ at me like that, Pa?”

“No reason.”

Mally scowls and Joshua smiles.

“This girl the reason you been so bent out of shape these past few days?” Mally’s scowl deepens.

“I didn’t even know you liked her,” Joe speaks up.

“I don’t. Damon’s a dumbass.”

“Uh-huh,” Mally rolls his eyes at their judgement.

“Look son, you’re a grown man. So long as you don’t do anything to interfere with business, what you do on your own time is none of my concern.”

Mally and Joe both look at their father in surprise.

“She’s a customer’s kid,” Joe protests softly. His voice drops lower and he shifts uncomfortably. “And she’s...you know?”

“She’s what?” Mally asks quietly. Deadly. Joe stares at him, clearly ill-at-ease.

“A negro.”

Joshua smacks him before Mally can, which Joe should take as a blessing. He’d probably have a broken face instead of a bruised one if Mally had struck him.

“Rudy’s a good man, and a business affiliation. It don’t matter that he’s black. I thought you fought in the damn war - you’d be dead if it weren’t for him.”

“It’s not me, Pa! It’s not!” he reiterates loudly when Mally starts to turn towards him. “I’m just sayin’ this town? These people? The negros keep t’ themselves for a reason, Mally and you sniffin’ after one their skirts - hell, _the_ skirt if we’re bein’ honest - it ain’t gonna go well, not for her folks or ours.”

Mally throws his hands up.

“I’m not sniffin’ after any birds. I don’t even talk to her. And I already promised Josie to leave ‘er alone, so I really don’t know what y’all are fussin’ for.”

“Josie knows?” Joshua looks perturbed. Not for the first time in his life, Mally wonders if it’s too late to switch families. Maybe the Forbes. They seemed nice.

“You really thought I’d tell _Damon_ before Josie? Damon is just trying to be annoying, he doesn’t know anything.”

“Mally,” the disapproving tone Joshua affects irritates Mally. “You know better than to pull your sister into any shenanigans. She’s a bookie, all she does is check numbers.”

“You _just said_ \- ya know what? I ain’t done nothing. I’m not gonna do nothing. So just leave me alone. Go talk to the commissioner. Business first, always. Right?”

Mally’s mood is black enough when he spits that out, that both Joshua and Joseph are surprised by the venom. Joshua eyes him, annoyed, but the eldest Parker knows how to pick his battles.

“I’ll drop it,” the _for now_ is heavily implied. “I’m actually going to lunch with the commissioner. I’ll have a driver take Joey and me back. Why don’t you go for a drive? Maybe check with some of our other customers, see if they’re satisfied with our services or want to renegotiate.”

The eldest son stares at his father, stormy eyes clashing with stormy eyes.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll see you later.”

He waits until they disappear into the justice building before driving off.

* * *

He ends up at Rudy’s. Of course he does.

The speakeasy aspect is well hidden during the daytime, the back rooms walled off and the dancehall filled with more tables, hidden behind the front of a homestyle restaurant. He decides to just eat while he’s there. Rudy’s makes some damn good country fried steak.

He’s not an uncommon sight around these parts and a small sea of brown faces look him over; some friendly, some cold, none of them surprised. Mally just smiles and takes his usual seat, picking apart the newspaper he bought from a kid outside. Someone will tell Rudy he’s around, but no one will interact with him directly if they could help it.

That was probably more about the Gemini tattoo on his wrist than his skin.

So it’s unexpected someone stops by to take his order.

“Welcome to Rudy’s, sir. What can I get for you?” a melodious - and painfully familiar - voice inquires.

Mally looks up from the paper into dancing green eyes. Bonnie looks different in the daylight, dressed in a long server’s dress and a blue apron, shrouded by the sun. She’s still just as beautiful as she is in a smokey din wearing her short, flapper dresses. The familiar feeling of being struck by lightning hits him and he shifts in his chair, looking back down. He’s torn.

He told Josie he wouldn’t go after Bonnie. Pa didn’t care, so long as his little crush (because that’s all his father thought it was) didn’t interfere with the family business and that didn’t sit right with Mally, so he still told himself to do nothing.

But he hadn’t accounted for her coming after him. So that doesn’t count, does it?

He smiles brightly at the paper then brings the expression up to her. She seems surprised by his jolly.

“Yer Bonnie, right? Yer pa around? I wanted to talk with him.”

She licks her lips. Mally’s eyes can’t help but to track the movement and he swallows, shifting again.

“He’s out right now. You can talk to me.”

Mally raises his brow at her. “You don’t think yer pa will be just a little mad at me, talking to his little girl about men’s business?”

Green eyes flash, and wow, anger looks good on her. Mally vows to make her as mad as she can stand. If he has to push her away, he wants to enjoy the sight.

“I’m not a little girl,” she retorts. Mally tips his head and peruses her body slowly, dragging his gaze up and down in an obviously lascivious manner. Then he turns his head away, back to the paper, clearly dismissive.

“You sure?” he murmurs. Bonnie huffs and the chair across from him scraps as she takes a seat.

“What do you want?”

“To talk to your father, Miss Hopkins,” he enunciates slowly, dropping his drawl and flipping through the paper.

“Bennett.”

“What?”

“It’s Miss Bennett. Not Miss Hopkins.” Mally looks at her in confusion.

“You don’t have yer father’s name?”

“No,” she holds her head up, chin tilted stubbornly. A part of Mally wants to grip it while he necks her. The other part of him just wants her to go away and take this feeling with her. “I have my grandmother’s. Bennett. Daddy has a boy, but my mama’s family doesn’t. Bennett name goes through the women.”

“Strange tradition.”

“About as strange as pretty Southern white boys with zodiac tattoos. Don’t you worry God will smite you for the paganism?”

“Don’t believe in God.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Why?”

“Ungodly men who live in ungodly ways don’t ever find eternal life.”

Mally smiles at her again. “Well angel, thanks for the concern, but the only life I’m worried about is this one.”

He pulls out his cigarette case and offers her one. Bonnie shakes her head.

“We have a strict no smoking policy,” she informs with a straight face as he moves to put the roll in his mouth.

Mally pauses, looking around. There were clearly other smokers; an elderly man in the corner was puffing on a pipe just across from them. Staring at him pointedly, Mally puts the cigarette back in his case.

“Isn’t lying a sin?”

“Only when you’re doing it for self gain.”

“Yeah? And you not letting me smoke is being selfless?”

“It is. You’ll thank me someday when you’re not coughing up tar.”

“But that’s the best part,” he pouts.

Bonnie laughs and Mally finds it fascinating, the way her cheeks pull back and her malachite eyes glow. Her oddly straight, white teeth gleam and her laugh is as melodious as her the rest of her vocalizations.

He’s so fucked.

“Daddy’s really not here. He’s visiting my Aunt Thelma, their mama’s birthday is coming up. You can stay and eat if you want, but if you need to see him, he won’t be back until tomorrow,” she props her chin on her palm. “When the saloon opens. Which I’m assuming is what you wanted to talk about?”

“That’s men’s business.”

Bonnie sighs. “So what’s my biggest offense, being a delicate woman or being a little girl? I can’t be both.”

“Can’t you?” Mally teases.

“I already know all I need to about the saloon, Mr. Parker. I know you know that. Daddy’s away, so I’m in charge.”

“Little you, holding down the fort.”

“Yup. Little, old me.”

Mally scoffs - she’s probably only a few good years younger than him, around Lucas’s age - but he concedes.

“Your pa ordered forty gallon crates for the upcoming week. I just came to check the order and get the first half of the pavement.”

“He left it for you,” she says, surprising him. “Figured one of you boys might stop by. He still wants the forty”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“Well,” she smiles. “You were so insistent on it being men’s business. Besides, I wanted to see for myself.”

“See what?”

Bonnie falls silent. Her chin is still held up by one hand, while the other traces invisible patterns on the table with a finger. She seems to be considering her answer carefully, so Mally bids himself to be patient, drinking in the sight of her with thirsty eyes instead. If he had any artistic talent, he’d paint a damn picture of her, she looked so pretty.

“Every few nights, this man walks into the saloon. He’s working, so he’s good at hiding it, but he always stares at me, especially when I sing. And I’m used to being looked at, but this man,” she peers up at him through her lashes, watching him watch her. Her voice is quiet when she finishes.

“He always looks at me like he’s hoping I’m the last thing he’ll ever see. I just wanted to see what he was like.”

Inside the cage of his bones, Mally’s heart constricts. His soul does something similar. He stares at the little Bennett woman and she stares right back.

He folds the newspaper and stands - he needs to leave, before he does something stupid. Like drag Bonnie across the table to taste her mouth. If he does shit like that around here, he’s gonna get killed, Parker name or not.

“I’ll be back for the payment tonight,” his voice is rough and he clears his throat. “With my brother. Just need you to sign off on the papers and we’ll start the run when you’re ready.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Parker,” her melodious voice says as he straightens his suit jacket. She doesn’t turn to face him. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Goodbye, Miss Bennett,” he tells her and walks away.

* * *

He doesn’t return that night. He finishes his run with two other speakeasies in Gemini territory, then sends Joe and Lucas, because he knows they’ll be perfect gentlemen, after informing them that they’ll have to conduct business with Bonnie.

“She’s a woman,” Lucas said, appalled.

“Well, Rudy ain’t around, and we need to conduct business,” Mally snapped. “She’s not stupid, don’t let her give you the run around, just have her sign and pay and then let her know the shipment will be hauled in tomorrow before the saloon opens.”

“You should’ve done that earlier, Mally,” Lucas sighs, frustrated with his brother. Joe says nothing, just stares at his older brother, who scowls at the youngest of the trio. He intervenes before Lucas gets stepped on.

“Yeah, we’ll go. We know how you hate doing business with ladies, Mr. Chivalry,” he teases. Lucas scoffs.

“Like I enjoy it,” the blonde mutters. He follows along as Joey drags him to the Buick, not at all caring about his biggest brother’s horrid mood as he cusses him out for the inconvenience.

As they walk of, Mally can hear Joe his at Lucas to shut up. “He’s in an awful temper, do you _want_ him to tan yer ass? Idiot.”

Mally sighs and walks inside the family home. Josie is off at her new house with her husband, more than likely doing their utmost to add to the family name. Livvy is out doing whatever it is she shouldn’t be doing at night. Joshua is locked away in his study, and Mally has no desire to go see his father. He stops by the triplets room on his way to his own - the littlest Parkers are all knocked out, dogpiled in their bed like the litter they are.

Their family’s tendency to produce twins and triplets is what pushed the Parkers to call themselves the Gemini Syndicate back in the 1870s when the gang was first pulled together. Joshua Parker was a twin, his identical brother having been long lost to violence and of his eight children, only Joseph, their mother’s second pregnancy, was the lone birth. Malachai and Josette, Lucas and Olivia, and lastly Andrew, Arthur, and Helena were all groupings. It’s no wonder Joshua ended up being all work and no play with so many mouths to feed.

Mally slips out of the triplets room before one of the three woke up and the whole pack of toddlers was on him. His mother had given birth while he’d been away in France - his father’s heart condition meant he couldn’t be drafted, so while Mally and Joe were off fighting Commies, he took to keeping his wife company. The pregnancy was rough on Agatha Parker, coming while she was older and well after she hadn’t been pregnant for some time. She died shortly after Andy was born. Alaric, Josie’s doctor husband, had to cut Helena out.

The eldest Parker sibling adores his youngest siblings, they were all he had left of his mom, but whenever they’re around, Pa gets stiff and distant. He misses his wife and the triplets are a reminder of why she’s gone. Even Lucas and Olivia, who were young enough to still be hanging around the house when she died, treat the triplets with some frigidity. Mally wonders if they know they even do it.

So the older siblings take it on themselves to spoil the wee brats rotten. Mally is their favorite, little kids always did like him, but tonight Mally needs space to himself.

He strips and bathes, then tucks himself in bed, trying to purge the memory of Bonnie haloed by sunlight and tracing figures on the dining table.

That night, like many others, he dreams of battlefields.

* * *

He doesn’t go to Rudy’s for days, Joe or one of the Salvatore’s taking his place while he tries to pull himself together. The tall Gemini isn’t fit for company, getting broodier the more he tries to isolate himself until finally Josette snaps at him.

“Stop hanging around my house!” she snarls, shoving at her tempestuous brother. “Look, Pa said go for it, so you don’t have to keep your promise to me okay? Now get!”

Mally scowls at his sister, making sure she sees him adjust his gun as he pulls his jacket from the coat rack. His anger makes his drawl recede.

“Just because you both have different stances, doesn’t mean your warnings weren’t put up for the same good reasons. It is poor business practice, not to mention other reasons why pursuing Rudy Hopkins’s daughter is a bad idea.”

Josie stops trying to beat him and looks him over. Her angry eyes soften.

“Oh, God,” she retreats slightly, looking forlorn. “You’re serious.”

“About what?”

“Bonnie. You love her.”

Mally scowls. “That’s a stretch.”

“Is it?”

“I only ever talked to her once, Josie,” Mally sighs.

“Well, talk to her again!”

“What?”

“Look, Pa doesn’t think you’re serious, he thinks you’ve just got a tug in your balls for a pretty girl. He thinks if you do it right, you can have your cake and eat it too.”

Mally frowns. “I know what Pa thinks, and I wouldn’t do that to Rudy. He’s my...he saved my life, Josie. Me, Joe, and Damon, we’d all be dead if it weren’t for Rudy.”

“And you’re in love with his daughter.”

“Josie, stop -”

“Look, I’m with Pa on this, you can have your cake and eat it too.”

“Josie!”

“Not like that,” Josie glares at him. “Just...I know things will never be the way you want with her, but we’re Parkers. You’re Mally, when have you ever given a damn what others think?”

“She could die, Josie, if anyone thought I wanted to do anything more than fuck her.”

“No one else has to know. If she’s a Parker, she’s family, we’ll protect her.”

Her words steal away Mally’s breath. He pauses in pulling his jacket on.

“That’s not funny, Josette,” he turns away from his sister and straightens the lines of his suit.

“I’m not pulling your leg, Mally. I know you; you’ve never been like this over a woman. You _will never_ be like this over someone again. And I know you don’t really think about marriage and family, but do you think you can live never feeling like this about anyone again?”

Mally stares at his twin sister, reads the seriousness in her face. His breath, when it comes to him, is ragged. He can’t tell if he wants to hug his sister or hurt her for the clandestine and frankly insane suggestion, she’s making.

“That shit’s illegal, Josie.”

“So is bootlegging, whoring, and rigging elections.”

“That’s the type of illegal folks will look the other way for! This will get Bonnie killed! And it’s just - even if she and Rudy said yes, that’s not fair to do to her. Don’t say shit like this to me.”

“We can protect her!”

“Josie,” Mally groans turning away from her. “Just stop, alright?”

He leaves, like she requested earlier, before she can open her big piehole again.

Her words echo around his mind like angry spirits all day.

* * *

Josie’s words haunt him. Make him angry. Make him hopeful. Make him stupid.

He goes to Rudy’s that night.

* * *

Rudy’s is, as it usually is, packed. People work and go to church during the day, but really people want to throw their lives away through their vices. Mally strongly doubts he is the only ungodly man Bonnie has ever met.

She isn’t singing when he arrives; she isn’t anywhere in sight and Mally can’t decide if he feels relieved or disappointed by that.

There are no other Gemini around, not any of his brothers or the men that work for his father and Mally actually finds some comfort in being solo. He takes a seat at the bar and the man working it, a light-skinned black man with blue eyes takes one look at him and pours him a glassy of the whiskey Mally helps smuggle in.

“On the house, man,” he says and turns to someone else when Mally nods his thanks. He takes a sip of the Salvatore’s moonshine before pulling out one of his ever present cigarettes to light.

Mally’s only taken one puff when a slender, brown hand plucks it from his mouth.

“I told you, this is a no smoking facility,” Bonnie tells him, grabbing an ashtray from over the bar counter and putting the cigarette out gently before handing the snuffed stick back to him. The Gemini gangster quirks his brow at her.

“Yer very brave or very dumb,” he informs her. She smiles.

“I like to consider myself principled,” she says.

The woman is once more in her flapper-like attire, a slinky, beaded black dress clinging to her curves, a matching black feathered cap, and a black shawl thrown over her elbows. Her lips are red like cherries tho and so are the kitten heels that do little to add to her height. Oddly enough, her colors match his own preferred black suit and red tie uniform. It actually hurts Mally to look at her, so he turns his attention back to his drink, willing the lump in his chest to wither and die.

“Ya singing t’night?” he murmurs and sips the whiskey.

She takes the seat next to him and once more props her face up with her hand.

“Do you want me to?”

“Ya always questions with more questions?”

“Only when the person asking the questions is too afraid to ask for what they really want.”

Mally puts his drink down and turns to face her fully. He narrows his eyes on her face, trying to discern if she was fucking with him or not. Most women around this part of Mystic Falls don’t engage him, not even the braver prostitutes. He wasn’t a savage, but he knows his reputation for violence precedes him. Not many women, especially black women, wanted anything to do with a violent white gang member. And as much as he knows Rudy likes him, he has no doubt the man would warn his only daughter to steer clear of his path.

Her green eyes narrow back at him. Heat flashes through Mally’s body

“You’re doing it again,” she murmurs. Her voice, melodious and sultry, teases Mally and he smiles to himself bitterly.

“‘M doin’ what?” he wonders. _Being tortured, perhaps?_

Bonnie blinks and a tiny smile slides over her face. She catches his eyes with hers, gaze challenging and spirited as she leans closer. Her perfume wafts towards him, something floral and sweet. The tall Parker’s nostrils flare.

“Staring at me.”

Mally doesn’t look away this time, brows furrowed. He’s not sure when the smile leaves her face or when they drift closer or how their intense staring contest must look to outsiders, but the bartender who served him before suddenly clears his throat.

The two pull away from each other and Mally turns back to his drink. The bartender frowns at them.

“Everything okay here?” he asks. Bonnie smiles.

“Everything’s fine, Jamie.”

The bartender nods his head slowly, clearly disbelieving but willing to trust Bonnie. He turns away after shooting Mally a pointed look. The stormy-eyed Gemini finishes his drink and places a few dollars on the varnished wood.

“I should go,” he says, putting his empty whiskey glass down over the money.

“Okay,” Bonnie says simply. “Where are we going?”

Mally sends her a sharp look.

“What?”

She smiles at him.

“I haven’t sung tonight, Mr. Parker. I thought that was your favorite part of visiting our establishment.”

Mally’s jaw clenches and he studies her face again, trying to get a read on what the hell she was thinking. He shakes his head when he can’t make any connections, pulling a face of discomfiture.

“What the hell you doin’ girl?” he sighs.

“I’m just offering to sing for you Mr. Parker. You don’t want to hang around and I could use some air,” she nods to Jamie. “My brother and Daddy can hold down the fort, they don’t need little, old me tonight.”

He’d promised Josie and his dad he wouldn’t do anything to interfere with business, told Jo he was going to leave the girl alone because it wouldn’t work out. Despite all that he did for himself, because he could give two shits about what other people thought, the idea of being the reason any harm came to Bonnie… That thought left the normally fearless man terrified. So his words to his family? Just an excuse he used to keep himself away from someone he knew he shouldn’t touch.

But fuck, Bonnie was making him forget his reasons, and with Josie’s words from earlier, he feels almost like he _can_ have what he wants.

Mally taps the bar top with his fingers. He stares at Bonnie.

“’M goin’ home,” he states, watching her. She nods, seemingly undisturbed by the thought.

“Gemini Manor, I presume?”

“Yes.”

“Pretty isolated, your home.”

The breath that Mally drags into his lungs is ragged.

“Yes,” he says, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat, looking down at her red shoes.

“I always wondered what the inside of the notorious Parker family’s home looked like. I don’t suppose you have a billiard room? I do enjoy playing billiards.”

The tall man smiles slightly, blinking a few times at the floor as a war ensues within him. What he should do and what he wants to do tug at his heart, pulling him to pieces. He breaks. He makes up his mind.

Meeting her eyes, he says lowly.

“Funny. I enjoy winning billiards.”

* * *

She’s good at billiards. He watches her lean over and align her cue before she takes her shot. Two stripes sink. The pretty songbird smiles triumphantly.

“Mr. Parker, if you don’t start playing really soon, I’m going to think you don’t want to hear me sing. Then my feelings will be hurt.”

Mally scoffs, rubbing his neck, but remains otherwise silent.

She’s referring to their little bet - she’d fell in love with his car when he drove them back to his home and asked to drive it if she want. If he won, she’d sing any song he’d like to hear and even let him dance with her if she felt so accommodating.

So far, Mally was losing by several turns and wasn’t really interested in playing for keeps. If she sang in his house, just for him, on his side of the house where no one ever bothered him at night - he was going to fucking lose control of himself.

And Mally was trying really goddamn hard to be a gentleman.

His internal back-and-forth was giving him whiplash. Wanting her in his space one moment and wanting her far away the next was getting tiring. Anger at his own weakness washes over him now that he’s alone with her, unsupervised. He could do anything to her, if he wanted; she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

But she’s his friend and business associate’s daughter. He _has_ to behave himself.

Bonnie sinks another stripe, but misses the one after, so it’s Mally’s turn. He has three solids left, but she only has the one stipe. He can win the game if he focuses, but at the same time he’s not sure he wants to.

Topsy-turvy. He’s unused to being so indecisive.

“Mr. Parker?” Bonnie’s voice asks him softly. A gentle hand lands on his arm, bringing him out of his glassy-eyed stupor. He blinks at her.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

She’s closer than he expected and she’s just...so _small_ and looking up at him with green eyes soft with concern. She looks like so much woman wrapped in her dark and Mally’s weak, he is so damn weak.

The pool stick in he was holding clatters to the ground when he releases in favor of grasping at her. His body presses hers to the billiard table and a gasp escapes her, the pool stick in her own hand rising up slightly. Mally pauses at the apprehension dancing behind her gaze, tilts his head slightly to look at the cue she has poised to strike him, contemplative. It’s a paltry weapon, if he wants to take what he wants, but her instinct to fight honestly intoxicates him. Swallowing back his lust, he turns back to her, his face leaning in slowly. They hold each other’s gazes.

“Ya gonna hit me with that?”

“Depends,” she breathes back. Her tense body relaxes slightly, letting Mally press in closer to her. Her petite body is warm against his and he’s sure she can feel the hardness beneath his slacks. He does after all, have it rudely against her thigh.

“On what?”

“What you do next,” she peers up at him, studying him carefully. Her pretty face tilts defiantly. “If you hurt me, you’ll regret it.”

Mally grins, blue-grey eyes darting over her face. He watches her as he carefully enunciates his next sentence.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to kiss me.”

He hears her breath leave her in a soft huff and several emotions run over face. But this is it. Mally won’t make another move from here, if she pushes him away, he’ll let her go. He will. _He will._ But if she leans in, like she is, if her eyes close, like they are, if her mouth presses to his, like it does, if she pulls his body closer and wrap her arms around him the way she is, just like that, _yes..._

His hear thumps painfully in his chest, then stills, quiet so that Mally can fully savor the moment his entire life garners meaning.

Mally won’t be able to let her go. _He won’t._

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This chapter was so long it got split in two. The ugliness of 1920s and gang-related crimes gain traction here and then really take off next chapter, so brace yourself. TW: A racial slur is used by a racist character. Also, some songs were released not in this time frame at all, but we’re just going to ignore that in this fic, okurrr?

**~2/4~**

 

Mally captures a full bottom lip between his teeth, sucking a whine out of Bonnie’s throat as he strokes deeper inside her. A sharp sting runs down his back when she scratches him reflexively and Mally growls, moving to grapple her hands and pin them down on the mattress beneath them. He breaks the kiss, taking in the sight of her pleasure-stricken face. If he died right now, with that image the last thing emblazoned on his vision, he’d go to oblivion without one regret.

“Oh, God, Mally,” she whimpers and he shushes her, pressing closer so that his weight blankets her body. Slender, brown legs wrap around his waist, toes curled against the backs of his thighs as she urged him closer, harder, faster. Mally happily obliged.

It’s finally the new year, a little over a fortnight since Bonnie had first kissed him against the pool table, and subsequently sealed their fate, whatever it may be. They’re at his place, a small apartment complex in Whitmore, a town a short drive from Mystic Falls. He hadn’t wanted to be at the manor or their hometown - in Whitmore, no one asked questions or witnessed anything. He’d just brought her back from Rudy’s, after she’d finished singing and long after he’d finished with business there, having circled back to pick up her up to avoid suspicion.

“Won’t Rudy wonder what yer up to?” he questioned when she clambered into the Bentley with him. He’d traded it for the Buick he normally drove around in, figuring anyone who saw it might reckon it was the car of a visiting “Founders’ Family” member.

She’d shaken her head at his question.

“He’ll just think I’m out with friends, and it’s not like that’s not true.”

Mally recalled having smiled when she called him her friend. This new, tentative thing between them was intense - labeling it a friendship gave it both levity and gravity, but he liked it. To be honest, Mally had never had a friend before. He’d had his family, and maybe the Salvatores could be called friends, but there was always the taint of  _ business _ surrounding their interactions.

With Bonnie, it was easy to forget he was Gemini, when they could talk for hours about music and pictures and literature, or get competitive over things as stupid eating cookies or as serious as a game of chess. He couldn’t just let go and do that with anyone else, forget himself for long enough to have fun. And Mally did have fun with Bonnie, a lot of it, when he wasn’t going crazy wanting all of her attention for himself

He wonders now, above her and inside her, naked bodies flush together, if this could still be considered friendly behavior.

Certainly, Mally’s never felt this kind of ‘companionship’ towards Damon.

Bonnie twists her wrists out of his hold, entwining one hand with his and throwing her other arm around his neck to pull him back for another kiss. Answering her silent demand, Mally refocuses his attention on her, sweeping the inside of her mouth with his tongue. She tastes spicy-sweet, like the cinnamon gin cocktail she likes to drink.

His free hand moves to grip her hip, holding her still so he could grind his hips into hers. She keens into his mouth, a small surprised sound that makes Mally grin. He kisses down her neck to her chest, sucks a careful hickey on her breast.

He likes her sounds, likes marking her up. They were his, like she was; her first real experiences with a man and her affectionate smiles and her glowing, cat-like eyes. All his.

“Please, Mally,” she whispers. Her eyes squeeze shut and she undulates against him, pushing against his hold for more friction. “Please, please, please.”

The last plea is nearly a sob. Mally brings their entwined hands up, rubbing her lips with thumb. She moves her head so that the digit slips inside her mouth, sucking at it to stop her vocalizations.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Shh, I’ve got ya. Go ahead ‘n’ finish.”

Bonnie’s eyes open slightly, lidded and dark as she watches him fuck her. The hand still clutched by his squeezes slightly, signalling her compliance, so Mally lets it free. Gripping her hips with both hands now, he rears back slightly and pulls her hips to his, getting his angle right.

Her back bows. A tiny yelp escapes her before she strangles it off, biting into her own wrist to avoid making too much noise. A shudder waves through her body and Mally watches it, pride and fascination removing his ability to look away. His dick feels slick with her release.

The orgasm that ripples through him takes him by surprise; he hadn’t felt it coming, hadn’t even been working for it really, but feeling her pulsing wetness must have pushed him over. He bows over her, hands moving to grip the sheets by her head. His hips keep pumping, working him through his own orgasm and pushing Bonnie into another.

“Fuck,” Mally grunts lowly. She giggles softly at the expletive, pulling him back to her in another hug. Her hands run soothing patterns down his back, pausing briefly over the circular scar on his back, where one of the bullets he’d taken had passed through him. The other had to be cut out by a field surgeon and Mally doesn’t think he’ll ever experience anything as traumatic ever again.

“It’s okay,” she coos, teasing. “I’m here, sweetie.”

Mally nips at her collarbone then rolls off of her so they both have space to breathe and come back down. Bonnie rolls to her side to face him, but doesn’t reach out to touch him again, knowing without being told that he’s like a live wire at that moment. She just watches him with a soft smile and he watches her back.

“Happy new year, Mr. Parker.”

He smiles at her, feeling warm. It was an uncomfortably pleasant feeling.

“Welcome to 1924, Miss Bennett.”

 

* * *

 

“Sometimes, I think maybe I’d like to sing at the Cotton Club,” Bonnie muses, leaning against the side of the metal tub.

Water dribbles down her back from where Mally squeezes the sponge. He’d filled the large wash tub with water for her when she complained about being sticky from their earlier activities and they settled into the warmth together. His phonogram plays the record Bonnie had gifted him for Christmas when she found out he had a predilection for jazz. 

The saxophone’s timbre in “ _ Dancin’ Dan _ ” fills his room while Mally listens to Bonnie speak.

“Only sometimes?” he asks, moving his unlit cigarette to the side of his mouth.

She hated the smoke, so he tried not to light them up around her unless he was really agitated. They compromised with him being able to keep a stick in his mouth if he needed it. The taste of tobacco soothed Mally; he’d smoked like a train before the war, but on the frontlines he’d been unable to get a hold of cigarettes as often as he’d liked. Now, they stood in as a reminder that he made it out of those bloody trenches alive.

“It’s exploitative,” she said. Her body shifts under his hand so he can reach around to soap her chest. “But the wealth and fame is probably worth it.”

The uncertainty in Bonnie’s voice prompts him to tug her back against him and wrap his arms around her.

“I don’t know,” she confesses. “If I can follow my dreams at the price of my pride. Sometimes I think that makes me a coward.”

Mally hums and kisses her head.

“Nah, yer the bravest gal I know,” he nudges her with his shoulder. “Don’t tell Josie I said that.”

She laughs softly, grasping at his wrist. Her thumb traces the Gemini symbol that lines the inside.

“Your secrets are safe with me, Mr. Parker,” Bonnie reassures him. The comfort makes a bittersweetness overtake the taste of tobacco in his mouth. He has to remove the cigarette from his mouth before he gets sick.

How daunting, when she was his biggest secret.

Not wanting to dwell on the sick feeling, Mally kisses Bonnie’s ear and lets his uncaptured hand drift below the water to tease at Bonnie’s core. She sighs and swats at him, freeing his wrist.

“Are you really a man? This can’t be normal.”

“Mhmm. Jus like ya a lot,” he moves his released hand to cup one of her breasts, and gently slips two fingers inside of her. “Now stop squirmin’.”

He angles his wrist and for the next few minutes the only word leaving Bonnie’s mouth is Mally’s name. He forgets the dread that made him feel sick.

 

* * *

 

Mally takes an impatient look around yard. Dressed as an ice delivery man on a Wednesday afternoon to drive some foreign skirts to a politicians’ orgy was not exactly his idea of a good time. Neither was waiting for Lucas to drag his ass in from wherever the hell he was so they could get to work.

“Where the fuck is he?” he growls at Joe, checking his pocket watch again. Joe shrugs, looking worried.

“It’s not like ‘im t’ be late like this,” the younger dark-haired Parker states. He sighs. “But we gotta go, Mally, we can’t wait ‘round fer ‘im any longer.”

The eldest sibling sucks his teeth, climbing into the driver’s seat of the refrigerated delivery truck they were using to smuggle the women.

“I’m gonna tan his fairy ass,” he snarls to himself.

“Mally!” Joe hisses, scandalized and paused entering the front seat. “Don’ go jus sayin’ it like that.”

The taller brother only rolls his eyes. It’s just talk, no one will actually think it’s true. If anything, Joe’s reaction reveals more information than Mally’s insult ever could.

“Whatever,” he mutters and takes off. Joe grips at the open door tighter, eyes wide before swinging the rest of his body inside the moving ice truck and slamming the door shut.

“You fuckin’ prick,” he spits at Mally, who just waves an aggravated hand at his younger brother as he drives to the Mill.

What irks Mally the most when they arrive, is how young and wide-eyed the girls look. Because they were girls, of all types of background, all sharing the same look of wistful determination. It’s unnerving how easily he can imagine Bon in their place if her family luck had been just a little different - it bothers the hell out of him. He fucking hates John Gilbert. The second-most irksome thing is how stupid and unsuspecting everyone  _ around _ the shop is. With hats hung low over their eyes and the long sleeves and gloves of the ice delivery uniform covering his and Joe’s tattoos, it just looks like the friendly neighborhood grocer had very hands on delivery men.

Fucking idiots. Mally decides he hates John Gilbert’s neighbors too.

An Oriental girl whispers something in a foreign language to a girl who looks very much like her sister. Mally is about to tell her to stay quiet when Gilbert slaps her harshly across the face, the impact resounding. Both he and the girl are shocked by the action, the small Oriental woman gripping her cheek and her friend grabbing her in concern.

“No one’s paying you to speak, girl,” Gilbert sneers at her and Mally is tempted is slap the other man himself.

He reigns in the urge. Slapping John Gilbert for momentary satisfaction will have his Pa on his ass faster than a tick on old hound. Instead he scowls at the man’s back and when he isn’t looking, shoves an ice pack in the girl’s hands.

There’s going to come a day when he kills Gilbert.

After he takes these prostitutes to the Council meeting and helps Pa get his foot in.

 

* * *

 

“Where the fuck have  _ you been _ ?” Mally barks when the back of Lucas’s blonde head enters his field of vision. Lucas freezes in the middle of the foyer, then slowly turns to face his brother. Even in the dim lighting, Mally can see the mottled coloring and disfigured swelling of his younger brother’s face.

His anger ebbs into worry, then re-swells, twice as hot and deadly, as rage.

“What happened?” he demands.

“Mally-”

“What dumb motherfucker did this to you, Lucas?” Mally cuts him off sharply.

Lucas stares at him.

“I’ll tell ya okay? Just calm down. We need t’ get Pa.” Lucas’ words are slurred and the Southern drawl he usually suppresses is strong. “It’s family business, Mally.”

The eldest Parker boy stares at his brother.

“I won’ do nothing ‘til we talk wit Pa,” he promises. “But I want a name t’ carve on the bullet.”

The fair-haired brother sighs.

“Ya gonna need a few,” he says. “Mikaelsons did me up like this.”

 

* * *

 

Tensions with the Mikaelsons had been brewing for years, if Mally was being quite honest. They were another syndicate family, some ducks that swam across the pond and decided to stay in America. Prior to the war, the Gemini had been on the cusps of a turf war with them.

After the war, there had been a period of relative peace - Mally assumes the Mikaelsons were dealing with their own share of grief, having lost their matriarch and youngest brother to the Spanish flu and their eldest brother in Germany. Mally certainly wasn’t in any headspace for a syndicate war, having been on bedrest for recovery from the two bullets he took to the trunk and somehow managed to survive.

The problem with Mikaelsons was that they were selfish. They wanted everything they had and everything others had and if they didn’t get their way, they pulled a big fish in a small pond act. Running the gambling halls in Richmond and surrounding areas wasn’t enough for them. They wanted on in the Gemini’s liquor runs - or really, wanted to take them over -  and when Joshua refused Esther Mikaelson’s ‘friendly business request’ shortly before America was pulled into the great war, everyone involved knew he’d inadvertently started a turf struggle.

Mugging Lucas was officially a declaration of bloodshed against the Gemini from the Mikaelsons. Sitting inside a Richmond theatre, Mally watches Kol Mikaelson a few rows in front of him. The youngest surviving brother was around Mally’s age and an extremely rude movie goer. He sat with three dates, all very pretty women with big eyes, big breasts, slender ankles, and elegant clothes; the other gangster was boisterously flirting with them, his hands on curved bodies and eyes daring anyone watching to say something foul.

Slouched in his seat, hat tilted low over his eyes and hands in his pocket, Mally observed the youngest male Mikaelson under the guise of sleep. Kol liked this theater, as it had a big showroom where a burlesque show was put on. His other big haunt was a casino in downtown Richmond run by his family that Mally surmises he oversaw. He’d come to learn all this over the past few days of watching him - Kol didn’t have a particular pattern, but he did have a familiar routine that he hasn’t broken - while he plotted his own counter strike.

Parker’s followed three big rules: one, business always comes first. Two, don’t drink watered down whiskey. And three, if they send ours to the hospital, we send theirs to the grave. Mally thinks on this as he stretches and rises with the crowd, exiting the theater. An older man gripes to his date about young, entitled rich kids and Mally smiles and lights up a cigarette, amused by the complaint.

Luke had needed stitches. Kol will need a casket.

 

* * *

 

It’s over a week since he’s last visited Rudy’s, some Gemini affiliates doing the liquor runs with Joe and the Salvatores more than he does. He hadn’t even been able to come see her doing Valentine’s day, although he did ring her up long enough to hear her voice.

Mally has been busy helping his father with his campaign after he (somehow) successfully bribed Mayor Lockwood into rigging the mid-elections for him to gain a spot on the towns council, and preparing everything he needed to settle this Mikaelson affair - basically to destroy them when it became a war. The tension leaves him waspish and ruthless, but when Bonnie shows up on his doorstep at nearly midnight, his dourness leaves him in the dust.

“Bon? What’re ya doin’ here?” he tugs her inside the apartment. “How’d you get here?”

“I borrowed Daddy’s car.”

Her voice is hushed and strained. Fear strikes Mally and his hands run over her form desperately. Had the Mikaelson’s done something to her? Or one of those crazed Ku Klux fucks? He’d fucking kill someone.

“Mally,” she grabs his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

He stops trying to find some physical harm and studies her carefully. There are lines of stress and fear on her face and the harder he stares at her the more he comes to realize that it’s  _ his _ reaction she was apprehensive about. He doesn’t like it, but why he can’t quite figure yet. 

“What’s wrong? What’re ya sayin’ sorry for?”

Instead of answering, she shuffles nervously, seemingly to gather herself together. Mally’s suspicion grows

“Did you -?”

“No!” She smacks him sharply and Mally scowls at her, rubbing at his cheek. She scowls right back, her apprehension forgotten in the wake of her own flared temper. “How dare you insinuate that I’m a cheat, Malachai Parker, I ought to slap you senseless! You idi-”

Mally cuts off her rant with a kiss. When he pulls back, she’s still glaring at him, but her anger is substantially less. She’d accepted his wordless apology.

“If it ain’t that, then we’ll be fine. What’s it then?”

Her tortured look returns.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers again. “But I don’t know what to do, Mally, I’ve never -” she cuts herself off and takes a deep breath, steadying herself. Spine straightening, chin angling stubbornly, she opens her eyes and sets the burning malachite orbs on him.

“I’m pregnant, Mally.” After her confession, all the bravery seems to leave her. Tears dampen her eyes. “I’m so sorry, I know this isn’t a good situation. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be -”

She keeps on speaking, but Mally can’t hear her. He stopped hearing anything past the word ‘pregnant’ and the idea of it, of a child,  _ their child _ , fills his chest with innumerable feelings, too big for him to contain in his body. But her tone, growing more desperate and pleading the longer he remains silent, returns him to the real world.

Mally pulls Bonnie into a hug. Between them, in her womb, a small life is growing and he can almost feel the pulse of it, the connection between them. Already, he loves the little thing like he loves it’s mother.

Bonnie’s tearful apologies falter. She hugs him back, tucking her face to the unbuttoned top of his shirt.

“You’re not mad?” she asks.

She sounds so small, so relieved. It angers him that she’d be so worried he’d be angry, but it’s his own fault. He doesn’t have the kindest reputation and he hasn’t told her that this... _ thing _ , this feeling between them actually meant everything to him.

Shaking his head, he hugs her closer.

“How d’you know?”

“Grams,” she whispers. “Mama’s mama. You know how she does magic? I felt sick and she made me tea, then did my leaves. We went to a negro’s doctor out of town to make sure.”

“Rudy know?”

Bonnie’s head shakes in the negative and she pulls back to look at him.

“I think...Mally,” her tears spring fresh again. “I think I have to get rid of him. Our baby.” She starts to cry in earnest.

“Daddy wants me to get married and he told me to stay away from you and...” she takes a shuddering breath. “I love you.”

The confession is quiet, barely a breath. Mally has to swallow the lump in his throat that it evokes.

“I love you,” she repeats. “But Daddy is right, I deserve to do it right, to have marry a good man and have his children.”

And that hurts, the idea of her with another man. His grip on her waist tightens slightly. The idea of any of her children not being his seems wrong.

Josie’s words from months ago echo in his head again.

_ We can protect her. _

She’s his. She’s  _ his _ . Bonnie was made for no other man.

Coming to his decision takes only seconds. He cups her face and pulls her into another kiss. Then he kisses her forehead and each trembling eyelid. Taking her hand, he leads her to the sofa in his living room, bidding her to take a seat.

Bonnie watches him in confusion as he disappears into his room.

It doesn’t take Mally long to find what he needs. Pa had given it to him shortly after he returned from the war, insisting that his mother would want him to have it. At the time, Mally had scoffed, knowing himself well enough to know that he’d probably never use this, but Pa had been persistent.

Now, Mally’s glad he was.

Bonnie smiles tremulously at him when he reappears, but it falls too quickly to fool Mally into thinking her fears have subsided. But hopefully what he does next helps soothe the stress in her eyes.

Kneeling in front of her, Mally grabs at her hands and implores her with a serious look. He clears his throat and picks his words carefully.

“I ain’t a good man,” he smiles ruefully at her. “Not in the slightest. But you’re right: you do deserve marriage and a happy home.”

Her mouth opens, but before she can speak, Mally slips his mother’s ring on her finger. She stares down at it, a tear falling down her cheek before she looks back up at him, shock lining her pretty features.

“And I’m telling you now, Bonnie, if you leave, I’ll let you. You can find yourself a good man, far better than me, and he’ll adore you, I’m sure of it,”  _ because how could he not _ , Mally doesn’t say. Instead he pulls her ringed hand forward and places it on his chest, right over his beating heart.

“He’ll adore you, Bon, give you a happy life, but I promise you this - you won’t fill his whole world like you fill mine. You won’t be the one person he longs for at all hours, you won’t be the lightning that struck him and changed the way his heart beats. So if you want your good man, you should leave now, and go do what you need to do and I will let you go, because I love you, too.”

Her lips part, breath caught, and green eyes rounded when he says that. But Mally needs to finish, to lay it all out, so she can make her choice, so Mally can  _ know _ for sure that her choice is or isn't him.

“But if you take this,” he thumbs at the ring he put on her finger. “And if you’ll have me, I’ll make it my business to keep you happy.”

Suddenly, he grins beatifically and she grins back reflexively before her smile fades as she watches him seriously.

“And I'm sure after all our dealings, you know what business means to a Parker.”

“Business first,” she murmurs, nodding. Mally tickles under her chin, making her smile re-emerge. The hand goes to cup her cheek, caressing the warmth.

“Always, Bonnie.” He swallows again and they stare at each other, drifting closer, magnetized.

“You’ll always be first for me,” he promises, right before they kiss. This time, Bonnie is the one to pull him closer and Mally knows her answer then.

 

* * *

 

When Rudy’s fist comes flying for his jaw, Mally doesn’t even bother trying to stop it. Instead he catches the punch with his jaw and goes stumbling back, falling to the ground.

“Daddy!” Bonnie admonishes her father.

The couple had decided to tell Bonnie’s father first, as they both had no doubt he’d be the most vocal opponent to their union. It was early in the morning, still the dusky part of dawn and earlier than most people rise, when they showed up. Rudy had eyed them warily from his porch when he saw Mally’s Buick pull up behind Bonnie in his car, setting his coffee down. His brow wrinkled as he looked between them and questioned where she’d been all night. The man’s face had grown almost apoplectic when Mally had taken Bonnie’s hand in his and told him, quietly but surely, that they were getting married.

That was when he pretty much just  _ disappeared _ from the porch and then the next instant, his fist came to greet Mally’s face.

“You hush,” he growls at Bonnie. The imposing man turns his glower from his daughter to Mally. “I shoulda let yer white ass die in France! How couldya  _ do this _ ?”

“ _ Daddy _ !” Bonnie calls his attention back to her. “It was me, okay? I went after him.”

“Don’ lie t’ me!” Rudy bellows. He points at Mally, who pulls himself up from. “Ya think I’m a damn fool? Ya think I ain’t see the way this fuck watched ya? I  _ told you _ t’ stay away for a reason, Bonnie!”

“I’m pregnant!” she snaps sharply, green eyes glaring at her father. “It’s Mally’s.”

Rudy freezes for all of a second before he starts stomping towards Mally. The tall Parker wonders if he should maybe fight back after all, because he can’t just let Rudy wail on him the way he sees the man wants to. He doesn’t get the chance to ponder further because Bonnie throws herself between the two hot-tempered men.

Her pa doesn’t even pause. His fist opens into a flat palm and he would’ve smacked Bonnie clear across her face if Mally hadn’t yanked her out of his warpath.

Mally sweeps his legs out and trips Rudy, whose anger had made him careless in his advance. Remembering the image of Rudy’s large hand descending towards Bonnie’s face, Mally’s own rage flares like a flashbang. The younger man slips on top of his love’s father, pushing him down, ready to strike. Behind him, Bonnie hisses his name anxiously, not yelling to avoid nosy neighbors, but still loud enough for Mally to regain some sense.

“Stop,” he barks at his former comrade. “Rudy, calm down.”

Rudy pops him in the mouth. Internally, Mally sighs. Fuck it. Sometimes men have to do what they have to do.

They grapple briefly until a cold jet of water splash them both. They look up to see Bonnie with a hose bent in her hand.

“Stop rolling in the mud!” she snaps. “Have you two lost your damn minds?”

Mally stops tussling, rising off Rudy warily. He goes to stand by Bonnie, who tosses the hose away and stares at her father.

“Daddy,” she says quietly. “We have choices to make. You can hear me out or toss me out, but you only get one choice and you can’t take it back.”

Father and daughter stare at each other, communicating silently in their stand-off. Rudy’s face softens slightly as he shifts his gaze away from Bonnie and he stands. He shoots one last glare at Mally, then addresses his daughter.

“There’s coffee in the house, c’mon,” he starts to lead the way inside. He stops, turning a stern look on Bonnie.

“‘N’ turn off my hose girl, water ain’t free!”

 

* * *

 

“We ain’t jus’ gonna let those ugly fucks get away with jumpin’ Luke, Pa!” Joe’s angry voice rang out, Olivia’s boisterous affirmation supporting him. Lucas just sighs, and shifts uncomfortably, not quite sure where to throw his hat between his battling siblings.

“Daddy’s not saying we won’t hit back, Joseph,” Josie snaps at her younger brother before Joshua can speak up. “But he’s got his campaign, and Mally’s got the paper in the works to turn the expand the orchards into a legitimate corporation. We cannot publically  _ afford _ to be in a syndicate turf war right now!”

“Who gives a shit ‘bout politics? Mally’s right, our focus should be on expanding  _ business, _ not gettin’ in bed wit’ fuckin’ lily-livered wannabe blue bloods. We’re Parkers, not Roosevelts!”

“The politics is business, you fool. And since when did you start speaking for Mally?”

The arguing siblings turn their attention to their equally dark-headed brother, whose gazing out Joshua Parker’s window with a glassy-eyed look. There’s a bruise on his face that he waved off when asked about it and everyone assumed he’d just gotten in one of his normal scuffles, except he’d been in an uncharacteristic fog since he showed up with it. An unlit cigarette hangs almost limply from his mouth, a matchbook in his hand, as if he started to indulge his habit and got distracted halfway through the task.

“Are we boring you, Malachai?” Joshua asks, slightly annoyed by Mally’s obvious spacing out when he was the one most active in all manner of Gemini dealings.

His oldest boy blinks slowly and turns his attention back to the room, where the majority of his family stares at him in a mix of exasperation, annoyance, and bemusement. Sitting up straighter, he finishes lighting his cigarette and taking a drag, before he addresses them.

“The Mikaelson issue’s gotta be dealt with quietly, Joe. Pa’s dumb campaign’s networking and power fer us. We work in on the government, we work in on the laws, we up our money and our control o’er it.”

“So we’re just gonna let -!”

“No,” Mally cuts Olivia off before her smart mouth makes him want to set her pretty blonde head on fire. “We bide our time, make ‘em feel safe. Then we strike back, and strike back hard. We ain’t in it just for the caskets, we’re fuckin’ ‘em out of the casinos too. If they ain’t gonna leave it alone, why should we?”

In his periphery, Mally sees a proud and malicious grin flicker across Pa’s face before the older man stifles it behind his usual stoic expression.

“‘Sides, all this yellin’ and I ain’t even tell y’all the good news yet,” Mally grins, his bright, infectious smile at odds with the tension in the room.

His family looks at him oddly when he puts his cigarette out. Rubbing his hands over his knees, his fingers drum a quick beat and he’s suddenly keyed up, almost reminiscent of the kid he was before the war got him. It throws everyone in the room for a loop.

“Bust out the champagne and yer Sunday best, ‘m getting married.”

It takes a moment for his words to register, but when they do, his announcement is met with a collective “what?” before a cacophony of questions and opinions arise. Mally just grins, the cat that ate the canary, and fields off their questions as infuriatingly as he possibly can before he settles them down.

“Look, it’s...unconventional,” he finally admits. “The bride’s Bonnie Bennett, Rudy’s girl. She’s pregnant.”

Joshua’s feels apoplectic at that, but soon shifts to confused when all four of Mally’s siblings suddenly burst into loud laughter. Mally just grins back at them, nodding his head and seemingly waiting for them to start in on him.

“Of course,” Livvy gasps. “Of course, Mr. Marriage-is-the-devil’s-work would end up having a shotgun wedding. Oh my goodness,” she grips her twin, an inelegant snort coming from her, both fair-haired siblings gasping for breath.

“Yeah, yeah, Livvy Piggy,” Mally drawls back, disregarding his sister’s unladylike middle finger. “Laugh it up.”

“I knew it!” Josie crows. She comes over to sweep her twin into a hug that Mally playfully tries to lean out of. Ignoring him, she kisses his cheek. “Finally! I’m so happy for you!”

Joe shakes his head. “‘M jus’ fuckin’ amazed the sentence ‘m getting married’ left yer damned mouth.”

And seeing all his children’s levity, Joshua swallows down the bad feeling in his chest and offers his boy a congratulations.

 

* * *

 

From the passenger seat, Bonnie huffs again.

“Really, Mally, where on earth are you taking me?” she questions, turning her blindfolded head in his direction.

“It’s a surprise, stop askin’ me,” he chides her. She huffs once more, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back into the Buick’s leather seats.

“You are a blockhead,” she informs him primly. Mally grins at her irritation, eyes darting off the road for a moment to take in her pouting. It’s cute, her simple, pretty blue dress and curled bob giving her a deceptively soft appearance.

“S’tha any way t’ talk t’ the man with yer life in his hands?”

She scoffs. “If you were ever going to kill me, you’ve had plenty of opportunities. You just like to play the big, bad gangster.”

“Nah, I only like playin’ wit’ you,” he pats her thigh and squeezes it just so, tickling her and making her squirm and shriek. She slaps blindly at his right shoulder, which he holds up to fend her off, his left hand holding the wheel steady. A pretty smile lights up the portion of her face that’s uncovered.

“I really do hate you,” she mutters. It’s Mally’s turn to scoff.

“Then gimme back my ring.”

Bonnie pulls her left hand to her chest, cradling it. “Not until you’ve written me into the will, sir,” she says in an mock-appalled tone. Mally ruffles her hair at that, making her scowl and rush to smooth the disturbed strands down.

“You’re such an ass, why am I marrying you?” she bemoans. Mally pulls the car to a stop.

“‘Cause I bought you a house?” he volunteers.

“What?” Bonnie moves to loosen the tie Mally had wrapped around her eyes, but he catches her hands.

“Not yet,” he commands gently, then opens the door. Guiding her out of the car and up the farmhouse’s long driveway, he moves behind her and takes the makeshift blindfold away. Bonnie blinks, eyes adjusting then going wide when she takes in the large space she’s standing in.

“Okay,” Mally tells her as she pivots around slowly. “Go crazy.”

But Bonnie stares at him, her brow furrowed.

“This place is…,” she trails off. “There’s so much space, Mally, this is too much.”

The Gemini shrugs, looking down. He gets uncomfortable meeting her gaze sometimes, as her green eyes always seem to look right through him.

“I was gonna move out anyway,” he grumbles. “‘Side the kids’ll need the space.”

“Kids?” she asks softly. Mally smirks, peering up at her through his lashes.

“Don’ tell me ya wanna stop at jus’ the one?” he teases. “Tha’ won’t be any fun fer either o’ us.”

But Bonnie doesn’t fall for his teasing and Mally’s grin falls, face becoming serious as tears suddenly spring up in verdant eyes.

“What’d I say?” he asks, alarmed, but Bonnie shakes her head and steps forward to hug him.

“I love you,” she hiccups, pressing her face to the lapels of his jacket. “So much.”

Mally relaxes slightly, curving around her. He cradles her the back of her head and lets her lean on him.

“This is jus’ the baby makin’ ya cry, right? Remind me to spank ‘im when he gets out.”

Bonnie heaves a choked laugh and pinches his ass. Mally retaliates by lightly smacking hers.

Soon enough, the couple are play-wrestling and then Bonnie is kissing Mally, jumping up so that her legs are wrapped around his waist and his hands are gripping her thighs. The kiss goes from playful to slow. Smoldering. Bonnie sucks his bottom lip in her mouth before releasing it, then pecking his ear lobe.

“Show me where we’ll be sleeping, Mr. Parker,” she breathes lowly.

It takes very little time for Mally to get them upstairs, throwing his suit jacket on the wood floor and laying Bonnie against it. It takes even less time for him to divest her of her undergarments and push up her pretty blue dress.

Bonnie doesn’t let him tease her too long, pulling him up by the hair when his face lingers by her sex.

“I want you,” she whimpers.

And Mally, gentleman that he is, obliges his lady’s wishes, rolling her on top of him and letting her slide his cock inside her heat and ride it to her satisfaction.

 

* * *

 

Damon comes up from behind him, throwing an arm around around his shoulder and ruffling Mally’s hair.

“Congratulations, you dog,” the Italian man grins at him. “I’d say I’m jealous, but I’m really not.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mally mutters, smiling briefly at him.  He adjusts his tie and the lavender boutonniere on his lapel, his grin fading as nervousness overtakes him. Damon watches him closely, leaning back against the farmhouse Mally had purchased, before purveying the land.

“S’a good spot for a family. Isolated. Nobody to bother you,” bright blue eyes pin Mally. “Nobody to help you out if you need it though.”

Mally sighs.

“Ya think I’ll need it?”

“I just think we’re in the middle of a turf war with the those fucking animals,” Damon sighs.

He pulls out a cigarette case, offers Mally one. He raises an eyebrow in surprise when the Parker declines.

“Bonnie don’ like it,” Mally explains. “She’ll taste it when I kiss ‘er an’ get all huffy later.”

Damon just grins and shakes his head. His very obvious thoughts annoy the taller man.

“Shuddup,” Mally growls.

The Italian’s grin just gets wider and he gestures to Mally.

“C’mon, man,” he says. “I gotta go ordain the marriage of the perfect couple today, I can’t stand around here with you.”

Mally snorts, but follows his friend to the orchard where his and Bonnie’s families are gathered.

It’s a small wedding party; Mally’s siblings and his father, Alaric, Rudy, Jamie, Grams, Bonnie’s tall, pretty cousin Lucy, and Stefan, who kept shooting Lucy covert looks when the woman wasn’t looking.

A hush descended on them when Mally stepped into view. A few rows of seats were placed around the huge apple tree Bonnie had fallen in love with, white and lavender ribbons decorating the tree and the seats. The tree itself was budding prettily, white blossoms just barely into their mid-March budding. Small bunches of lavender and baby’s breath decorated the scenery and the only reason Mally knew this is because he’d walked in one too many times on the woman chatting about what to do with the wedding, considering how contained it had to be. 

The wedding party finds their seats and Rudy disappears into the house to fetch Bonnie. Mally goes to the makeshift altar at the foot of the tree, kneeling in front of it while Damon takes his place behind it. A few moments later, music starts up and Mally hears the raven-haired man whistle lowly.

“She’s beautiful, Mally,” the officiator mutters to the groom.

Soon, there’s a rustle of fabric and Bonnie is kneeling beside him. Her hand slips into his and Mally steals a glance at her. Malachite eyes, verdant and glowing, peek back at him through a white veil. Bride and groom grin brightly at each other, almost silly with delight at being together and soon being united.

The actual ceremony is a blur for Mally. It’s old world and completely illegal, but it’s very much real to Mally and Bonnie and all of their family and friends witnessing it.

Rudy and Joshua drape a shawl that Bonnie’s Grams had knitted over them and Damon tied it around them, droning on about bonds and unity. Mally doesn’t remember the words, just how right it felt to have Bonnie pressed to his side. He remembers saying “I do” and slipping a ring on her left hand while she did the same to him.

He remembers the way she clung to him when Damon tells them they can kiss, the way he couldn’t stop smiling into it and the lightness in his chest for once crowding out the worry and anger he’s been feeling since the year started.

After that there’s cake and dancing. Bonnie throws her bouquet of purple and white flowers. Lucy catches it, much to Helena’s disappointment - the toddler cries until Lucy offers to plait the flowers into her dark hair. The Salvatore’s had provided some of their specially brewed moonshine for the party and everyone, even Bonnie, was a little tipsy. She cries when she dances with her father and Mally swears he sees a twinkle of tears in Rudy’s eyes as well. When night falls, they build up small bonfire and toss in the lavender, which fills the yard with an aroma that keeps everyone calm as they eat and socialize.

Mally pulls Bonnie up to dance with him when Josie puts on “ _ Somebody Loves Me _ ” and Bonnie sings along with Ella Fitzgerald into his ear.

“Somebody loves me,” she hums. “I wonder who? Maybe it’s you.”

Chuckling, Mally kisses her cheek.

“Maybe I do,” he mutters in her ear. “Wife.”

“Husband,” she replies, smiling softly. “Maybe I love you, too.”

He dips her and when he pulls her up, he kisses her again, right on the mouth, unprompted, in front of the only people who matter. His hand presses to her still flat belly and Mally vows to himself that he would protect the little family he made for himself.

At whatever the cost.

 

* * *

 

Before he can go on his honeymoon, Joshua demands that he and Lucas go check on John Gilbert’s business proposal and Mally goes to the Mill with some reluctance.

All the cigarettes he hadn’t smoked because of Bonnie’s distaste for his hobby, he blows through in record time, especially after listening to the idiocy Gilbert proposes. Even Lucas is looking at John in disbelief. Mally blinks at him, very slowly, showing his skepticism.

“Let me get this straight,” he utters removing the cigarette from his mouth. The rings on his right hand glint in the light and he can see the way Jonathan eyes them nervously, no doubt wondering what the metal would feel like biting his skin if Mally’s temper proved hot.

The newlywed had taken to wearing multiple rings to disguise the wedding band on his left hand. Luckily for him, his reputation and taste in heavier, simple designs made them come off as an intimidation tactic as much as an odd fashion choice.

“Ya want us to run out Rudy Hopkins - our business affiliate and the man who saved my life ‘cause he  _ actually  _ fought in the war,” he references Gilbert’s draft avoidance, one that everyone and their dumb, deaf, and blind grandmamas knew was faked. “So that ya can take o’er his speakeasy?”

“I know it may seem distasteful to you, given your...history,” Jonathan says with a snake oil smile. “Let’s not say there’s no honor among thieves. But I think, considering how well our last business venture went, that we can do this quite well. And besides, it’s just not right, for that nigger to swindle good people out of their money like that and making them drive to  _ that _ part of town just for a good time. With our combined resources, any club we form will be much more...entertaining.”

Lucas shifts uncomfortable at John’s words, shooting his older brother a worried look. The ugly slur combined with the suggestion of Mally running prostitutes again…

Mally leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over his knee. Saying nothing, he blows smoke in a French exhale and watches John like a hawk. He cracks his knuckles and feels a twinge of sadistic delight when the Gilbert’s eyes dart to his hand. Controlling the rage simmering in his stomach, he questions the slimy man in front of him

“And how exactly do ya propose getting Rudy to bow out? He ain’t exactly easy to cow.”

Gilbert shifts.

“You let me worry about that. But I hear his little daughter is pretty for a negro and I know some people who would know how to use that to make a convincing argument for him to sign over his business to me.”

Before Gilbert can even finish speaking, Mally has him hauled up by his collar and thrust against the wall. His hands wrap around the other’s man throat, squeezing tight he hauls up John Gilbert by the throat. Lucas stands up in alarm, gripping his brother’s shoulder, but Mally ignores him in favor of watching Gilbert turn an interesting shade of purple. Mally cocks his head to the side, face blank and eyes cold.

“Lemme jus make somethin’ real clear,” the Parker states steadily. “Ya know. You.  _ Know.  _ I don’t like the whorin’.  _ You know _ I don’t like the shit ya do to women - runnin’ broads ain’t something I like t’ do, Johnny-boy.”

He pulls John back slightly, and slams him into the wall so that maybe that information will stick in his thick, ugly head.

“Ya think I won’t notice or care ‘cause you only do that shit to the immigrant women and the coloreds, like I can’t see through yer bullshit. Ya come to me with this shitty offer, when you know jackshit ‘bout bootleggin’, and yet yer askin’ us to help ya sell some whiskey with yer women by threatenin’ the family o’ the man I owe my life to? Tha’ our  _ supplier _ owes his life to? No, I’m gonna make this very fucking clear.”

Mally spits his cigarette into John’s face. Behind him, Lucas hisses in shock and discontent, but the elder brother is beyond the point of caring.

“We will keep to business as usual, Mr. Gilbert. My father is very grateful for your help with getting him to Lockwood, but insofar as  _ this _ business goes,  _ I  _ run it and you will not tamper with any of our ventures pertaining to any other speakeasies. Should you like to open your own salon, I will be more than accommodating in helping you get resources. But  _ What. You. Will. Not. Do.  _ Is threaten the livelihood of my friend and a  _ source of my profits _ , do you understand?”

Gilbert stutters and Mally smacks his face lightly, releasing his neck to push him against the wall by his shoulders.

“What was that, Johnny? You’re not going to fuck with my money?”

“No,” the shorter man wheezes. Mally pats his shoulders, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes. Gilbert bites back a flinch when Mally straightens out the tie he ruined.

“Good. I’m glad we came to a’ understandin’,” Mally grins at him, suddenly outwardly friendly despite the menace that still lined his body. “Now, word o’ mouth is that yer lookin’ to expand yer company into the hospitality industry. Wouldya like to talk business?”

 

* * *

 

Mally is highly annoyed when his Pa asks him to postpone his honeymoon one more day to be there with him for the poll results.

“Yer gonna fuckin’ win the spot, Pa, are ya serious?” he snaps. Joshua frowns at him.

“It’s not over until it’s over, Mally. I want you here in case I don’t win. I don’t want to have to try to phone you in France just to go over the contingency plans. That’s incredibly expensive.”

Mally waves his hand around, indicating the general size of Gemini manor.

“‘Cause we’re so badly off, huh?”

Joshua’s frown just deepens.

Mally plops down in his seat, intent on ignoring his father until he can go home to his wife and try to find ways to make it up to her that they had to catch a later train to New York before they could take the ferry to France. It’s not like it delays them much, it’s still the same boat ride, but he’d been hoping to stretch out the traveling a bit so as not to put too much stress on his pregnant wife.

Her belly had popped recently and she’s started wearing looser dresses and coats to hide it. She’s still as petite and slender as ever, and only looks like she’s pregnant when she’s naked, but she’s got a glow that Josie says only comes from being with child.

The heavier she looks, the more terrified Mally feels. They opted to travel under the guise of a businessman and his secretary, even went so far to book separate but neighboring rooms on the train and ferry. The chateau they’ll be staying at in Burgundy is owned by cousin and used as a vacation house, since the area was experiencing a lot of emigration. Aside from two housekeepers and chef contracted to secrecy, there’s technically no reason for Mally to be so jittery.

But still. He’s worried that traveling with him in her state will give them away, that a commie or someone with Klan ties will take one look at them and  _ know _ , the way all bigots seem to know, and that Mally will wake up with a dead wife, and a grieving, angry heart.

Joshua taps him on the shoulder.

“You’re always in your head these days,” he chides his son. He nods to the radio. “They’re making the announcements now.”

In silence, father and son listen carefully, shoulders relaxing in tandem when they hear the name  _ Joshua H. Parker _ listed as one of the new-term council members.

 

* * *

 

“This place is like a much more elegant version of our home,” Bonnie observes, looking around the foyer of the country chateau. Mally quirks his brow at her, setting one of her luggage bags down.

“How so?”

“It’s French,” she replies simply and smiles at him.

“S’pose it is,” he agrees, nodding his head to her logic. She beams at him.

“Here, I’ll help you get the rest of the luggage from the car.”

They work quickly as a team, unpacking the car and settling in for their two weeks away from their world. Flopping down on the bed together, they heave simultaneous sighs of relief. Mally’s happy to finally be at their destination. The cloak-and-dagger of actually getting there had been grating, and Mally leans over, pulling Bonnie into his arms for the first time in 3 days.

“After we get back home, we ain’t ever leavin’ the house again,” he informs her.

Bonnie giggles, snuggling in and kissing him indulgently, making him almost ready to shake off his fatigue and fuck her right there. She pulls away before he gets too wound up.

“I may find that agreeable,” she confesses. “That was awful.”

He holds her for a few moments longer, just enjoying the furnace-like heat his little Bonster produced. Her body ran incredibly hot for someone so tiny. Finally, Mally pats her shoulder and sits up.

“Let’s change,” he suggests. “‘M tired of bein’ in these fuckin’ clothes.”

They change into Mally’s blue, striped pajamas - she takes the button top and throws her silk robe over it while he gets the bottom and pairs it with an undershirt - then head to the kitchen for a snack. There are several meals prepared for them in the icebox and a few covered plates on the table with some room provisions. Bonnie decides she wants to dig into one. Her husband just satisfies himself with the bread and cheese from the table, and watches her while she bangs around the poor stove. Mally did not marry a cook.

Bonnie manages not to burn their lodgings down reheating ratatouille, for which Mally is quite grateful. He pours them both some red wine, even though he knows Bonnie will probably only sip at her glass before letting him have the bulk of it. He doesn’t think anything’s wrong with it, but she insists drinking too much is no good for the baby. Mally has no idea where she gets her odd ideals, but he’s unbothered in indulging.

“Oh, praise Jesus,” Bonnie moans, taking a mouthful of the vegetable soup straight from the post. “Honey, this is so good, come have some.” 

Never one to turn down food, Mally comes up behind her, one arm around her swollen waist and the other redirecting the spoon in her hand to his mouth. She glares at him.

“That is good,” he agrees.

“That was mine,” she grumbles. He smiles down at her and pecks her nose. Turning off the stove, he tugs her to face him and pulls his shirt off. She peruses his chest with a light smile, that melts into a glower when he throws his over her face.

“First of all, why? Secondly, I already have a wrap,” she gripes, grasping at the shirt. Mally swats her hand away and turns her around, folding the shirt around her head until it effectively shields her eyes.

“Let’s play a game.” 

“What game? And why do all your games involve blindfolding me?”

“A guessin’ game. And ‘cause it’s sexy.”

She shakes her head. “You’re full of baloney, you hoodlum.”

“It is,” Mally insists and guides her to sit on the floor. Grabbing two plates off the table, he sets them on the ground on one side of her before he settles in behind her, leaning back against the cabinetry. He settles his long legs on either side of her bare ones.

“Ready?”

“I suppose,” she sighs. He smiles and grabs a grape.

“Okay,” he say. “Open wide.”

Bonnie harrumphs and opens her mouth, and Kai pops the grape in. She chews it.

“Grape.”

He feeds her another fruit.

“Berry.”

“Wha’ kind?”

“Strawberry.”

He kisses her cheek in reward, then switches the food up.

“Cheese and cracker.”

Another snack.

“Prosciutto?”

“French type,” he prompts. She falls quiet, thinking.

“I don’t know.”

“Jambon de,” he feeds her another slice, letting his finger tarry on her lips. “Bayonne.”

“Jambon de Bayonne,” she repeats against his finger. Her tongue darts out to lick the salt from it.

“Mhmm,” he hums against her neck.

He nips it lightly, pressing a few kisses against the length of it. He can feel her pulse against his mouth and, as she leans back, he can see the shadow of her bare cleavage beneath his pajama top. Mally undoes the first button. Bonnie pouts.

“Food?” she queries, somewhat agitated, making her husband laugh. He grabs a random fruit and puts in her mouth, still undoing the buttons.

“We already,” she gasps when he opens the shirt and palms her breast. They’ve gotten bigger and more sensitive as her pregnancy progressed, something the newlyweds both found to be a pleasant surprise.

“We already did strawberries,” she breathes.

“Yeah,” Mally mutters, rolling her nipples between her fingers. Bonnie moans, melting against him.

“Mally,” she huffs. Her chest pushes against his hands. “What about the game?”

Sucking a bruise against her neck, Mally release one breast to palm her sex roughly, rolling her clit with the pad of his finger. Bonnie bucks against him

“Still playin’,” he tells her. He brings the hand that caressed her back to her mouth. “Suck, don’t bite.”

She obeys. Her mouth is hot and wet and Mally kind of wants to make her taste his dick as well. Wonders if she’d like to.

“Slide down, kitten,” he tells her. “Put yer head in my lap.”

Something like a whimper comes from Bonnie as she follows his command. Pushing the pajama waistband down, he grips his dick and guides Bonnie’s head to where it is. Her mouth is already open and she tongues it eagerly, humming her approval.

Head tilted back, Mally lets her lick and suck at him to her own rhythm for a while before he gently grasps her head and guides her to where he’d like her. She plays along, sucking hard at the tip when he won’t let her go down any further, then relaxing her throat when he makes her blow him at a steady pace. She only taps his thigh for release when he’s slow thrusting down her mouth and Mally takes that as all the invite he needs to turn her over on her hands and knees.

Sidling up behind her, Mally shoves his pants lower, around his knees, and slowly slides his cock into the warm sleeve between her legs, making Bonnie moan.

“Oh my god, Mally,” she breathes. “Yes, please.”

He leans down and presses his mouth against the top of her head, kissing there. He embraces her closer so that her back is flush to his chest. He gives a few shallow thrusts, teasing making Bonnie groan and press her hips back against his pelvis.

“Don’t tease.”

“So demandin’,” he tuts. “I can jus’ stop.”

“I’ll kill you,” Bonnie growls, grinding back on him. Mally laughs, full-bellied and happy, and holds her hips tight. He then proceeds to fuck his wife like she commanded him to.

The majority of their time in France passes similarly.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N2: I got a cold from hell then went on vacation in rapid succession. Please don’t dump me yet, I have two more parts to do.

**Author's Note:**

> AN2: So this motherfucker is long? Like stoooopid long? So I’m breaking it up into 3 parts, all of which will be up by the end of the week.


End file.
